Father's Day
by Neirthen
Summary: With the arrival of Father's Day, it's Wheeljack's turn to receive a surprise from the Dinobots.


BANG! BANG!

Ratchet onlined his optics and stared dimly up at the ceiling, unsure as to why he had woken from recharge so early. Ironhide shifted sleepily beside him, a large red arm draped over Ratchet's waist.

BANG! BANG!

Ironhide sat bolt upright with a yelp. "Where's the cannon?" he mumbled, fingers closing around the rifle that rested on his berthside table.

"Put that away before you hurt someone," said Ratchet, scrambling out of their berth.

BANG! BANG!

"I'm coming," snapped Ratchet, pressing a panel. "This had better be an emergency. It's six o'clock in the morning."

The door slid open to reveal the Dinobots; Grimlock, Slag, Sludge, Snarl and Swoop.

"Hi, Mama," chirped Swoop, waving a hand merrily in greeting.

Ratchet ran a hand down his faceplates and resisted the urge to groan. "What are you all doing here?" he asked.

"We come to ask your advice," said Grimlock.

"At six o'clock in the morning?"

"We going to be busy today."

"All day? No, don't answer that. What do you need my advice for?"

"Papa."

Ratchet didn't even bother to restrain his groan this time. "Grimlock, I have told you time and time again, Wheeljack is not your father, I am not your mother, we are not related."

Ratchet might as well have been talking to a brick wall for the amount of good his words did. The Dinobots paid him no mind, Grimlock ploughing on as if he hadn't spoken.

"It Father's Day next week, and us Dinobots not know what to get him Papa for a present."

"Here's an idea, get him a fire extinguisher." Ironhide appeared at Ratchet's side, looking rather grumpy. "Can Ratchet come back to our berth now?"

"Us Dinobots want to get him Papa a _good_ present," said Slag, shooting Ironhide a dirty look, as if offended by the mere suggestion of getting Wheeljack a fire extinguisher for Father's Day.

Ratchet sighed. "Ironhide, you're not helping, go back to the berth."

"Not without you," said Ironhide stubbornly, crossing his arms.

"Oh for the love of..." Ratchet turned back to Grimlock. "I'll discuss this with you later, Grimlock, at a more reasonable hour."

"But us Dinobots need ideas now," whined Snarl.

"For Primus' sake," exploded Ratchet, "dig up another rose bush, get him a giant tie, serve him his morning energon, I don't care, just let me get back to bed."

The Dinobots watched, slightly fearful and with wide optics, as Ratchet whirled around and stormed back over to his berth.

Ironhide smirked at them. "It's that time of the month."

"IRONHIDE!"

The door slid shut in their faces, and Cliffjumper could be heard mumbling, "What's he yelling about now?" from behind the closed door of his quarters.

"Now what?" grumbled Sludge, folding his arms in a sulk.

Grimlock walloped Sludge across the helm. "Stupid Sludge. Us Dinobots make him Papa a giant tie and serve him his morning energon, just like him Mama said."

Ironhide slid in beside Ratchet at their usual table in the commissary and grinned at him.

Ratchet looked up from his energon cube and glared suspiciously back. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Know what day it is?"

"Sunday."

Ironhide chuckled. "And Father's Day."

"Been keeping track, have you?"

"I just thought you might want to prepare yourself."

Ratchet let out a snort. "Then you should be telling Wheeljack, not me."

The rest of what Ratchet had to say was drowned out by an outbreak of giggles. Every Autobot in the room was pointing and laughing at the sight before them, in this case, Wheeljack, who had just entered the commissary wearing an oversized grey, green and white striped tie around his neck.

Ratchet felt his mouth fall open. "What the hell..."

"Well, what do you know," snickered Ironhide, clapping Ratchet on the shoulder, "they actually took your advice."

"My advice?"

"Don't you remember? You told them to get Wheeljack a giant tie for Father's Day. Apparently they missed the sarcasm."

"Hey guys," Wheeljack took the seat next to Ratchet and opposite Ironhide and beamed at them. "Nice day, isn't it?"

Ratchet shook his helm and ignored the question. "What are you wearing, Wheeljack?"

"What, this?" Wheeljack held up the end of the tie and shrugged. "The Dinobots gave it to me for Father's Day. I kind of like it."

Ironhide hurriedly swallowed a mouthful of energon to stifle his snort.

"I cannot believe you're out in public with that on," said Ratchet.

Wheeljack frowned. "It's not that bad."

"Yeah," said Ironhide, "until you blow something up and set it on fire."

"Well, obviously I won't be wearing it in my lab, Ironhide."

"Where are the Dinobots, Wheeljack?" Ratchet interrupted, sensing a brewing argument that would do nothing but get them off topic.

"They'll be here soon," said Wheeljack, turning back to Ratchet. "They wanted me to come in, sit down and relax."

Ratchet scoffed. "Because refuelling is so stressful."

"No, they said something about serving me breakfast." Wheeljack shot Ratchet a smug look. "Pity you missed out on that last time."

"Wheeljack, the Dinobots can hardly serve themselves energon without making a mess, let alone other bots."

The Dinobots chose that moment to stumble into the commissary, large feet thumping along the ground as they trooped over to the energon dispensers.

"I'm sure they'll manage," said Wheeljack, confidence fading very fast from his voice.

Ratchet, Wheeljack and Ironhide watched the five Dinobots pour energon into some cubes, all the while arguing amongst themselves and giving each other the occasional shove.

"You keep telling yourself that," said Ratchet.

The optics of everyone in the commissary were on Grimlock as he made his way over to where Ratchet, Wheeljack and Ironhide were sitting, followed by Swoop, Snarl, Sludge and Slag, cradling a cube filled to the brim with energon between his servos.

"Why you Grimlock get to carry energon?" grumbled Snarl. "Me Snarl want to do it."

"Me Grimlock leader," grunted Grimlock. "Me Grimlock carry energon."

"Him Snarl right," said Slag. "You Grimlock get to do everything."

"You Slag shut up," snarled Grimlock.

The Dinobots arrived at their destination, and Grimlock stretched out his hands to give Wheeljack his energon ration.

Wheeljack shot Ratchet a triumphant look. "Thank you, Grimlock..." he began, but as he spoke, Snarl lunged forward.

"Me Snarl want to do it," Snarl cried, making a wild grab for the cube and losing his balance in the process.

Snarl collided with Grimlock, and the two tottered about on their feet, arms flailing as they struggled to regain their balance. The end result was Grimlock losing his grip on the cube and the contents spilling all over Ratchet's lap. Grimlock and Snarl fell to the floor with a crash as Ratchet leapt out of his seat with a curse, his white legs stained pink from energon.

"Grimlock! Snarl!" bellowed Ratchet, blue optics glinting Decepticon red.

Laughter erupted throughout the commissary, and Ironhide hurriedly ducked under the table, knowing Ratchet would not appreciate any sign of amusement from him.

"Primus dammit," swore Ratchet, "why couldn't you have just gotten Wheeljack a rose bush and have been done with it?"

Swoop shook his head. "Flowers are for Mother's Day, Mama, not Father's Day." He quailed under the force of Ratchet's glare.

"That's it," snapped Ratchet, storming over to the exit, "I'm going to the wash racks, then to my berth, and I'm not leaving it till dinner time. Hoist, you're in charge of the medbay, have fun with it."

Hoist nodded somewhat meekly as Ratchet passed him.

Once Ratchet was gone, Ironhide emerged, and Wheeljack ushered Grimlock and Snarl to their feet.

"Grimlock, Snarl," he said, making sure his voice was as gentle as he could possibly make it, "don't worry about the energon next year."


End file.
